Deadly Reflection by Nancy Kay

Not bothering to shave, Nick McGraw pulled on shorts and yanked on a tee shirt. Once outside the cabin, he stretched his tight muscles and took a deep breath. The sharp-edged nip in the air would help clear out mental cobwebs.

He jogged beside Pine Shadow Lake, dredging up memories of kick-ass sunsets and of nights spent huddled by crackling campfires swapping scary tales with his buddies.

Old childhood haunts, great memories.

He’d come to Pine Bluffs for a vacation, traveling four hundred miles to escape an insane pace and a never-ending caseload.

“Damn it.”

He smacked the whining mosquito flat against his bare arm. Too frigging bad locking up criminals wasn’t as easy as swatting bugs. Damn well should be. If that were the case, thoughts about leaving Philadelphia PD wouldn’t be bouncing around in his head like a damn rubber ball.

Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep. Last night had been heaven. No sirens, no calls jolting him awake and sending him to another grisly crime scene. He’d planned to sleep in, to lounge away the morning in bed. But years of habit had won out.

Where the hell had the past fifteen years gone? The decision to move away from Pine Bluffs hadn’t been his choice. The decision to return was. In Nick’s mind, the sleepy little town provided the perfect spot to unwind and figure out where his life was heading.

Pine Bluffs, Pennsylvania, on the opposite end of the state from Philly. Opposite end of the chart for crime.

For the next two weeks, he planned to avoid anything having to do with law enforcement. This was his time. A long overdue vacation, and… what the hell?

Nick skidded to a stop.

Several sharp cries, followed by a high-pitched female shriek, made tension slam into his gut like a fist. From somewhere close by came the frantic sound of someone, or something, crashing through thick underbrush.

To his right was the lake, and on his left a steep slope led to swampland and the adjoining bog. The ruckus grew fainter and fainter, moving rapidly away, until only rustling leaves overhead and the eerie, distant call of a red-tailed hawk broke the silence.

Perspiration trickled down Nick’s spine, and a steady breeze molded his tee shirt to his damp skin. Swirling up from the bog were smells he’d almost forgotten.

Moisture laden peat, thick as plush carpet, and an underlying hint of decay.

Then the wind shifted, and an all too familiar stench permeated the air around him. The hair on the back of Nick’s neck rose and out of habit, he reached for his Walther PPK.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, coming up empty-handed. He swiped at another friggin’ mosquito. His off-duty weapon was locked up back at the cabin.

Gentle waves lapped the shore. Sunlight speared through a bank of clouds and danced on the lake’s surface. Things appeared normal. Yet judging from what he’d heard, someone might be in trouble. Someone female.

Nick reached for his cell phone, then hesitated. Dragging Tom McGraw out for no good reason wouldn’t sit well with Pine Bluffs’ Chief of Police. And his cousin TJ, new to the force, would laugh his young ass off if it turned out a sluggish box turtle had scared the shit out of some silly girl.

Taking a deep breath, Nick closed his eyes and assessed the facts. Off duty, on vacation, sworn to protect and serve. He had no choice. Opening his eyes, he eased from the path and worked his way down the slick incline, testing each step like a cat stalking prey.

*****

After hurtling down an incline behind sixty-plus pounds of canine energy, Cassi Burke stopped with a bone-rattling jolt. She sat in an oozing quagmire, eye level with Rufus’ plumed tail.

“Look at me,” she snapped. “I’m covered with gunk, my shoes are gone, and I feel like I’ve been whipped.”

Rufus stood statue-still, nose quivering, ignoring her. What in the world had possessed him? He’d pulled her from the path, paying no attention to her frantic cries, and dragged her through tangled underbrush into rank, murky darkness.

She unwound the leather lead and flexed her aching hand. Stinging cuts covered her bare arms and legs. Just great.

“I need a companion, not a damn sled dog.” Cassi eased to her feet. What she needed was time to rewind, and for the plane carrying her parents to have soared instead of nose diving into the sea.

Tears stung her eyes.

Rufus was her only companion now. She wasn’t ready to accept, or believe, the woman who’d come forward after the accident claiming to be her aunt. And she hoped coming to this quaint town from the suburbs of Pittsburgh in order to meet this long lost relative had not been a big fat mistake.

She swiped a hand across her eyes, crouched low, and peered into the surrounding shadows.

Rufus lurched away, disappearing into the gloom.

“That’s it.” She scrambled after him. As she pushed through dense foliage, the swampy ground gave beneath her feet and seeped between her toes. Finally, frustrated and spitting mad, she caught sight of the retriever’s golden coat.

“Rufus, come here.”

He spared her the flick of one ear. He’d heard her, but he made no move to obey. Instead, he crept forward, heading straight for a pile of sticks, leaves, and God knows what else. Something reeked to high heaven, and the hum of insects droned in her ears.

She seized the trailing leash. Too late. Rufus reached his goal, and amidst noisy snuffling and frantic pawing, he chomped down and tugged, using his weight, jerking hard until his prize pulled free.

“What the…” Cassi moved closer.

The dog averted his head.

“Rufus give me that,” she whispered fiercely, yanking on his collar. Thick, foul-smelling globs flew in all directions. Nausea welled up inside her, and her knees buckled. She murmured, stunned, “Oh, my God.”

The cutting edge of a knife protruded from Rufus’ mouth.

“Oh, God. Rufus drop it. Drop it!”

Rufus hunkered down, clenching the knife’s handle between his teeth.

Cassi dropped the leash, twisting and swiping at the gore sliding down her bare legs. Off balance, she smacked down hard.

She scooted backwards, stifling the urge to scream her head off.

“I’m all right, I’m all right,” she repeated, willing her skittering pulse to settle. Shuddering, she wiped her sticky palms on her shorts.

Focusing on Rufus, she lured him close. “It’s okay, fella. Come here, baby.”

Gingerly, she pried the wet handle, covered with dog drool, from his mouth. Indescribable slime coated the blade. First, she gaped at the knife. Then her eyes shot to the congealing smears on her legs and every instinct screamed, ‘Get the hell out of there! Drop the damn thing and run!’

But she didn’t. After coming this far, like Rufus, she wanted to know what lay beneath that smelly heap of debris.

She swallowed, hard, and rose onto her knees. With his ears perked and his eyes on the knife in her hand, Rufus leaned against her. She bent forward, and using the blade’s tip, poked the rubble. Hand quivering, holding her breath, she lifted the top layer. One disgusting clump came free. She flung it away, choking and gasping. Determined, she tightened her grip and with a flurry of bravado, flicked away leaves, sticks, and dirt.

No. Oh, no.

Horrified, she stared at a pale, hairy, human torso covered with gaping wounds. Her stomach heaved. She recoiled, rapid heartbeats thundering in her ears.

“Police! Hold it right there. Drop the knife and don’t move.”

Cassi whipped around. Looming several feet away, cloaked in shadows, stood a man. Her eyes went from him to the mutilated body, then back. She ignored his harsh command and scrambled to her feet.

He strode closer, forcing her gaze up a tower of muscle. Dark stubble roughened his jaw line and, glinting in the dim forest, his hard, angry eyes locked with hers.

What kind of cop slunk around a swamp, hovering near dead bodies? The shoe did not fit.

“I said, put down the knife. Now!” The man wiped sweat from his brow, moved closer, and reached for her.

Cassi raised her hand, forgetting she still clutched the knife. He froze, muscles bunched like a jungle cat ready to pounce. Going light headed, she gulped in air and cast a furtive glimpse around. Except for the droning insects, hushed silence surrounded them.

She was alone, and at his mercy.

Rufus pressed against her legs, emitting sounds somewhere between whines and growls.

Cassi dropped the knife.

“Get ‘em!” she shouted, giving Rufus a hefty shove. Resisting, the stumbling dog crashed into the man.

“Damn it!” he yelled, as Rufus’ big puppy feet tangled with his long legs. He skidded, arms windmilling, and landed flat on his ass.

“Son of a bitch.”

Rufus took off running.

Cassi seized the moment and followed. If this was a cop, she’d face the consequences later. Right now, she just wanted to escape and get out this swamp.

But her bare feet slipped and she sprawled, full out, on the greasy slope. The man’s hand closed on her ankle. He uttered an unintelligible growl and hauled her back, cursing and dodging her feet as she kicked and punched blindly.

“Stop it!” he ordered. “I’m a cop, damn it.”

He lurched forward and flipped her over, flattening her beneath him. Grasping her arms, he pinned them to the ground.

She wriggled and twisted, soon deciding that bucking against his hard body was futile. Unable to escape his unrelenting grip, she screamed, point blank, into his startled face.

“Hold still,” he panted. “And quit that bloody screaming.”

Cassi went limp and squeezed her eyes nearly shut. “Please, please,” she pleaded. “Don’t kill me.”

“Don’t kill you?” he muttered. “What the hell?”

Chest heaving, he pulled out a cell phone and punched in a number. “TJ,” he said after a moment, “grab Uncle Tom and haul ass out to Piney Bog. You’ve got a damn homicide out here, and I’m sittin’ on a prime suspect.”

Cassi’s eyes shot open. “Who are you?”

He pocketed the phone, not saying a word. With fluid ease, he stood and pulled her to her feet. Immobile in his vice-like hold, her fight gone, she stared up at him.

Smears of mud covered her arms and legs. Her ruined clothes clung to her like wet rags. Beneath his bold assessment, she cringed, knowing that her erect nipples were clearly outlined and poked against her soaking wet, mud-stained tee shirt.

He lifted his gaze and leaned close, until they were nose to nose. “My name is Nick McGraw,” he growled. “You can bet your cute little ass I am a cop. And don’t even think about moving until the local police get here.”

Dumbfounded, she stared into his furious eyes. This was unbelievable, bizarre. Could things get much worse? Cassi trembled and attempted a deep, calming breath, only to have the ever-present stench fill her nostrils. When she clapped a hand over her mouth, the man jerked back. Then he held her as she leaned over and lost her breakfast at his feet.

*****

Cassi looked down at her dirty, wet shirt. Compared to Officer TJ McGraw in his crisp uniform, she could pass for a mud wrestler. He’d accompanied her to the Pine Bluffs Police Station after doing a cursory search. He’d confiscated her car keys, her driver’s license, and her watch. She’d received moist wipes and bottled water at the scene, and on the way to the station had been promised a shower and dry clothes. So far, she’d gotten neither.

The day had become a nightmare.

A rough-textured blanket the police had provided failed to stop her teeth-rattling shudders. She lifted the hem of her filthy shirt and sniffed. Her throat contracted, and she gagged. She’d never forget that smell.

Huddled on a hard, straight-backed chair, she listened to muffled voices through a closed door, straining to understand.

“Holy shit, TJ, where did you learn to do a search?”

She recognized that voice. He’d scared her witless, appearing out of nowhere, yelling at her.

“Look, Nick,” TJ shot back, “just because you’re a big city detective, doesn’t mean you can butt into my investigation.”

Her head spun. Two McGraws? Officer TJ McGraw, the one who’d brought her in, had just confirmed that the scary man was not only another McGraw, but a cop, too.

Their encounter flashed through her mind. Up ’til now there’d been no mention of an arrest, but she’d been found with a dead body and had assaulted the policeman who’d found her.

“In case you didn’t notice,” TJ continued, “she wasn’t wearing much. I could see right through that shirt, and those shorts fit her like a second skin. You know how careful male officers have to be.” Lowering his voice, he added, “But, man, what a body.”

Cassi pulled the scratchy blanket tighter.

“Yeah, well… I found that great body crouched over a corpse with a knife in her hand,” Nick pointed out. “And you’re worried about touching her tits? I’d sure as hell have searched every inch of that body.”

Now Cassi loosened the blanket. Heat crept up her neck and chased away the chill. His remark had been just plain crude, but the image of that tall, dark, dangerous-looking man searching her body made her hot.

Their voices faded, and a distant door closed.

Alone, Cassi waited in a small room with dingy yellow walls and recessed fluorescent lights. She rubbed her bare wrist and glanced around. A clock hung on the wall to her left. The second hand hovered just shy of the number ten and jerked in place. She stared, vaguely aware of the clock’s steady whirring, mesmerized by its frozen hands.

Cassandra Burke wanted the ghastly day to end, and she wished to God she’d never left Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania.

*****

After closing his office door behind them, TJ gave Nick a once over. “You look like hell.”

Nick glanced down at the streaks of dried mud covering his khaki shorts. “Shit, look at my clothes.” He felt the seat of his pants. “That damn crazy dog of hers crashed into me, and I landed on my ass.”

Twisting to get a better look, TJ scoffed. “Yep, that ‘LL Bean’ ass looks a little damp.”

Frowning, Nick scrutinized himself, looking for more damage. Then he spied his spattered boots. “Guess I didn’t move fast enough when she tossed her cookies, either.”

He caught TJ’s amused expression and shot him a dirty look. “What the hell do you find so funny?”

TJ chuckled. “You have to ask?” He swept his hand toward a chair. “Have a seat, cousin.”

Nick eased onto the chair, grimacing as his wet pants molded to his butt. “What’s your next move?”

“I’ll call Rob Evans, the department photographer.” TJ grabbed the phone, punching in numbers as he talked. “We’ll comb the area Dad has already secured and have Rob get shots of the body and crime scene from all angles. Then we’ll measure for cross reference and… Hey, Rob.” TJ shifted his attention to the call.

Nick leaned back and folded his arms. He was impressed. He liked the way TJ took charge. More time had passed than he cared to admit since he’d last seen his young cousin. His career demands had made visits home almost non-existent.

Who would have thought TJ would end up in Pine Bluffs, Pennsylvania, working with his dad? The sight of him with Uncle Tom, both wearing the same uniform, had taken Nick by surprise. They looked alike, right down to their close-cropped hair. To see them side by side when they moved and talked was spooky.

His cousin had always been called TJ, short for Thomas Jacob. Good thing, Nick decided. Although most of the time people called TJ’s dad Chief, having two Tom McGraws on the force could have been confusing.

Nick resembled them. McGraw men were tall and lean, but thanks to Mom’s side of the family, his hair had deep auburn tones instead of Uncle Tom and TJ’s eye-catching red.

TJ concluded his call. He made some notations, tossed down his pen, and turned to Nick. “As soon as Marcy gets here, Rob and I will head back to the scene.”

Nick arched his eyebrows. “Marcy? That wouldn’t be–”

Someone rapped several times on the office door.

“Enter,” TJ said.

In burst a bright-eyed female police officer. There was no mistaking that familiar face and brimming energy.

“TJ, what’s going on around here? I’ve never, ever been called in to work overtime. Is it true? We have a dead body in the bog?” Marcy glanced at Nick. She did a double take. “Nicky? Nicholas McGraw, is that you?”

He nodded.

Her eyes skimmed over him. Upon reaching his boot-clad feet, she wrinkled her nose. “You look a little rough there, Nicky. What brings you back to Pine Bluffs? Last I heard you were a big city detective in Philadelphia, right?”

She took a step back. “What happened to your clothes? You look, and smell, like you’ve been rollin’ in the bog.”

Nick smiled. Some things never changed. Marcy Williams still switched subjects and ran sentences end-to-end with amazing speed.

“Hello, Marcy,” Nick said. “You’re right. I’m a detective for Philly PD. I’m here on vacation, and yes, I managed to fall down in the bog, thanks to the very reason you’ll be working overtime.” He eyed her up and down. “You look good in uniform. What happened to being a teacher and saving the world’s youth?”

While attending grade school with Marcy, Nick had been aware she planned to be a teacher someday. During summer vacations, she’d set up makeshift classrooms and coax him, along with any other willing bodies, to be her students.

Those sessions had usually ended in mayhem. But sometimes, on hot summer afternoons, they’d sprawl beneath the weeping willow in Marcy’s backyard, listening as she read to them. The memory flashed vivid and sweet through his mind.

Somewhere along the way, Marcy’s plans had changed.

“I made it to the student teaching stage,” Marcy stated. “Then I realized schools weren’t what they used to be. I wanted to discipline kids, make them listen and learn. The powers that be wanted to coddle them, to make sure nobody infringed on their ‘rights’.”

“So you became a cop?” Nick asked.

“I became a cop.” She grinned from ear to ear. “I came back to Pine Bluffs, Chief McGraw got the process rolling, and here I am.” She planted her hands on her well-rounded hips. “I’m the youth officer for the department.”

He chuckled. Marcy would no doubt have an impact on the youngsters of Pine Bluffs. Before he could comment, she added, “Oh, and my last name is Evans now. My husband, Rob, is our resident photographer. We have two boys, ages five and seven, who know the difference between ‘rights’ and ‘privileges’.”

He digested all she’d said, and for some reason, was pleased that his childhood friend was happy with her life.

TJ broke in. “Can we continue this reunion later? Dad’s waiting, and so is our suspect. She’s soaking wet and needs dry clothes. A brief preliminary has been done. Can you handle it from here, Marce?”

“No problem, just fill me in and you can take off. Who is she, and have we charged her?”

“Her name is Cassandra Burke. Miss Cassandra Burke. And no, she has not been charged.” He handed her a slim manila file. “Here’s what we have. First, I want her made comfortable. After that, we find out what she has to say. Unless hard evidence turns up, we have a narrow window in which to question her. She hasn’t asked to make any calls, so see where she wants to go with that. I want this done by the book.”

He turned to Nick. “Will you write me up a statement? Tell me what you saw at the scene. Any details you can provide will help.”

Nick pushed up from his chair. “I’ll get right on it and have it to you by tomorrow at the latest.”

“Good. Gotta run.” TJ gathered his notes and left the room.

Marcy glanced up from reading the initial report. “Nick, how did you manage to get involved?”

He thought about it. “Before noon, I went for a run, and on my way back to the cabin I heard something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah. Shouts, a couple of startled yelps.”

“Like someone calling for help?”

“At first, I wasn’t sure.” Nick picked up a pen from TJ’s desk and clicked it. “I tried to pinpoint a direction. That’s when I noticed the smell.”

“Hard to miss.” She wrinkled her nose. “With the path so close to the bog, on warm days the air can be rank.”

“No.” He stopped clicking and flipped the pen onto the desk. “This was different. I’ve worked homicide, Marce. This smell sent a clear message.”

Slowly, Marcy closed the file. “I’ll look forward to reading your report.” She glanced at her watch. “Now, I have to get moving or TJ will have my butt.”

As they prepared to leave TJ’s office, she turned and faced him. “Off the record, Nick, do you think she killed him?”

At first, figuring his opinion was best kept to himself, Nick didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how long Marcy had been on the job or what she’d encountered so far. On the other hand, being hardnosed wouldn’t help her. Other than firsthand experience, cops learned from one another.

“Forget I asked,” Marcy said and started to turn away.

“Facts are what matter,” he said, “not what we think.”

His words stopped her. She swung around. “Go on.”

Not wanting to point her in any one direction, Nick measured each word. “First, the man was dead, and he’d been dead a while. Trust me on that one.” His wink brought a tiny smile to Marcy’s lips. “Second, Cassandra Burke had a knife in her hand.”

“Your statement will confirm that?”

“Yes. I’m an eyewitness. Now, number three is a combination of one and two. Together they’ll create questions and give investigators a direction.”

Marcy appeared thoughtful. “Maybe she’d known him, or knows who murdered him.”

Nick grinned. “Good points, Officer Evans. See how the facts made you think?” He reached over and tugged on a lock of her hair. “Off the record, do I think she’s a killer? Based on what I saw, not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Head tilted, Marcy studied him. She opened the door, turned, and smiled.

“I’ll talk to you later, Nicky,” she said, and left.

Nick McGraw left the station, eager to return to his cabin and clean up. Aside from reconnecting with family and friends, his first day of vacation had sure as hell turned to crap.

*****

“Miss Burke, I’m Officer Marcy Evans. I have some dry clothes for you, and there’s a shower down the hall where you can clean up and change.”

Hunched beneath her protective blanket, Cassi eyed the female officer standing before her.

“I will remain with you while you do that,” the woman concluded. “Do you have any questions?”

While loosening the blanket, Cassi met Officer Evans’ dark eyes. “Yes. Yes I do. Am I being charged? And where is Rufus?”

“Rufus?” Looking puzzled, the officer flipped open the file. She looked inside, then raked an impatient hand through her dark, curly hair.

Cassi sat up straighter and dropped the scratchy cover. “I’m afraid he’s lost. He’s only a pup. I just got him from the shelter, and he’ll be scared.”

“Rufus is a dog?” Officer Evans cleared her throat. “Miss Burke. We have a corpse in the bog, an off-duty police detective, whom you allegedly attacked, and you’re worried about your puppy?”

“I didn’t stab that man,” Cassi declared. “And maybe I shouldn’t have sicced Rufus on Mr. Macho, but he just showed up and started yelling. How was I to know he wasn’t the killer?”

The officer slowly raised one brow.

“Sure, he said he was a cop, but they’re supposed to carry badges, and… and guns. No policeman I know wears shorts and skin tight tee shirts.”

Officer Evan still didn’t react.

Cassi’s head threatened to explode. She slid to the edge of her chair. “Rufus is sweet-natured. He’s loveable, not a guard dog. Instead of protecting me, he ran and knocked down–”

“Mr. Macho?” Marcy glanced up, then back at the file.

Cassi narrowed her eyes. “I think his name is McGraw, and he practically flattened me when I tried to get away. Then the police arrived. Lights flashed, sirens screamed, and Rufus just kept running. I can only hope he found his way back to Aunt Ada’s.”

The woman’s dark tousled head shot up. “Ada? You mean Ada Blaine?”

“Yes.” Now maybe she’d listen. But tears threatened, and Cassi almost crumbled when she admitted, “I just found out she’s my aunt.”

Marcy Evans closed the file and placed it aside. She retrieved a nearby box of tissues, and after handing them to Cassi, lifted the crumpled blanket and folded it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and into some dry clothes,” she said gently. “Then you can call your aunt.”

Cassi’s brave defense evaporated. Her legs wobbled as Officer Evans helped her to her feet. How was she going to tell Aunt Ada, who had suddenly become her lifeline, she was a murder suspect on the verge of being arrested?